Ouroboros Record ~Circus of Oubeniel~

One of the four major continental powers, the United Kingdom of Zanktogaren, is dubbed the 'Land of Forests and Spearmen'.

The region is divided into black woods, dotted with trees surrounding it. It was only a few hundred years ago that it was an exceptionally young country in the history of Ithusela.

The Heidelrecht dynasty of the Grand Kingdom of Grandonburg, which built the capital of Galerin on the great plains of the east, became the ally, a system that mediates the interests of the small and medium-sized countries of the Union and even the nobles under it. I have to say that that danger is far more brittle than it is in the neighbouring kingdom of Arquel, where totalitarians and decentralists contend.

Nonetheless, Xanctogallen has seen a certain stability and has gained a say in arming up with other major powers. What is its source?

- Strength.

In the continent of Ithusela, where there are still many threatening creatures of humanity, such as demons and subhuman beings, forests are, in other words, places where demons live. Demon worms, warcraft, immortals, at the end of the day demons travel, literal demons. It is the people of the eastern great power, Zanktogaren, its ancestors, who have simultaneously fought a war between humans and a survival competition with monsters in such a wooded land.

Born out of an endless history of strife, the mightiest kings rule the kings. A powerful nation scorned by other nations for its barbaric soil and peripheral soil, but never lightened. That is the United Kingdom of Zanktogaren.

But where the power of the people living there has increased, that does not mean the weakening of demons.

- Weak predators, survival of the fittest.

Does life polished by a harsh code of nature shine only in a fierce struggle? As men overthrew the trees and plowed through the woods, the demons who dwelt in the remaining tree waters became more powerful. Sometimes they eat people who invade the forest, sometimes they eat their compatriots who compete for territory in the same forest. It was nevertheless similar to the curse of antiquity passed down more than in ancient times.

Man and man contend, man and demon contend, demon and demon contend.

Xanctogallen, a country colored by the history of strife while spreading a quiet forest.

Many mighty monsters continue to live in this land, which still leaves many untouched.

With the bow in one hand carrying an arrow barrel, he follows his prey and runs between the trees. The ends of the trees never try to make a sound, trying to go through the woods like the wind we blow through. This refreshing hunting time was the most exciting thing about Bache.

Whatever the adults inside say, this is all we can't stop.

And this is for everyone. Birche makes such an excuse for the spicy backwardness of exaltation he feels in his chest. Harmony and peace are preserved if we hunt beasts that vandalize forests and disturb tranquillity. Then you should be able to say that you are doing a good job as a family member.

Thoughts, long ears tremble pickly at the signs of impending prey. She was an elf. White skin so that it falls out, on long ears that are distinctly different from humans. The hands and feet running through the ground with bows and arrows were elongated and chamomiled and supple. Except for the slightly feverish colour of excitement in the eyes of the circle, it is the daughter of an elf painted in the back of the brain by men of the world.

Normally, elves don't like blood. Because strife threatens to maintain order in the woods they do well. But there's something about young barches like when it's time to plug into a hundred that doesn't fit into those shapes. While the daughters of her clan learned to work and sew, she was mixed up with young men and interested in hunting. Not only that, but twice as many of the men in the same company let their prey be tailored. Sometimes I defeated a bear by myself.

It is an unmistakable mutation. "Is there even human blood mixed together," he whispers in his pussy. It is incredibly savage to be the same elf. But Hate its ears were as long as any other thing, and its good shape was even her pride. And she always argues with people who say things like that.

This is one way to elf, he said.

The elf is a people of nature. imitate the right of its operation and correct the bad. It can sometimes be as fierce as a storm, and it can strike those who exchange like thunderbolts. Those aspects of nature are not too obvious to me.

Birche was never meant to kill useless people, like humans who cut trees and burn forests. It's just that as soon as the people inside need a hunter, they raise their names and hunt big men in their prey. Therein are the forests from which they were born, and their possessions as protectors in the midst of which they grew up. It was her dissatisfaction not being able to understand that around her.

(... Ouch!

Capture the shadow of prey forward, one tongue-in-cheek. She doesn't always try to fix what she did, even though it embarrasses her when it comes to adults.

Today's prey is the leftover pig, who has recently strayed into this forest. He has been extensively hungry, and has wiped out several herds of wild grass that serve as ingredients for the spiritual medicine. Those in the human race who take on a profession called the 'adventurer' also occasionally came near the inside to pick rare grass. However, it is still common to leave 30% for the next collection. This is worse in nature than in humans.

For Bache, this pig was an unforgivable invader. Even in the inner realm, there is a wide range of voices to hunt mountains and discuss them. We haven't had a formal shakedown yet, but it'll be only a matter of time. She slipped out of the interior in the name of bow practice and supplemented the big pig half as she had hoped.

(Better than I thought)

The target was fleeing at first sight, as if he had distracted Birche from killing. Cowardly enough for a figure approaching a cow, but its delicacy is also a necessary sensibility for those who live in the woods.

(...... but sweet)

This birch forest is the domain of the Bache and other Witte tribes. Big pigs are showing ridiculous healthy legs, but if you predict an escape route and get ahead, you can easily catch up. A creature called a pig is an animal of a nature who cares more about details than he thought. It may be called the temperament to avoid the unknown. If you push him away, he will always escape on the usual path. Because I fear getting lost in places I don't know. And Bache has already identified an eye-catching escape route from prior observation and surrounding geography. If a big pig rushes through a dense wooded area or something that's difficult to get through, it's not that hard to get ahead.

Birche, who changed course and pierced between the trees, found the hog's flank in the wooden gap. as calculated. Just because we can get ahead of ourselves, we can't put ourselves before this giant comes in at all costs. Shooting through the soft spots on the flanks from the sides was a good idea.

Take out the arrow immediately, watch it on the bow, and release it. For Elves, bows and arrows that have been familiar since childhood are equal to extending hands and feet. Not to mention Birche makes a good bow for the first time among the young men inside. Had the habitual man looked from the side, it would have felt as if the arrow had been fired at some point in the next moment when he reached for the arrow barrel.

- The hog screamed.

"... shabu"

The prey that was shot in with an arrow continues to run as he shook his head in pain. Elf bows are a kind of courtesy. An arrow released in the woods stabs deeper than a crossbow if poorly done. I didn't know it would hurt to eat that, but that pig also has the corresponding bump in the figure.

Birche jumps out of the woods and descends onto the beast path. Then he shoots arrows at the fleeing pig.

One arrow, two arrows, three arrows - all hit. But shallow. It didn't lead to fatality. It's also hitting my leg, so my speed has dropped, but my prey is still running away. There was simultaneous frustration with his immaturity and admiration for his opponent's vitality in the barchet. And the respect that hunters have for their hunting opponents is always accompanied by a willingness and desire to kill. By serving with the Spirit, you want to make that tough living your own flesh.

"I won't let you get away with it -!"

Elf's daughter decided to chase the prey of running with blood all the way.

The pig then fled around for about half an hour before being shot. Others will see it as like an ugly death painted on the ground after wandering off unnecessarily while waving their asses. But hunters never think so. The elves who live in the woods. It is the end of a raw race, crazed to death, without giving all the life given to it by the great nature. There was nature, the dignity that drowned his neck, and the beauty that paralyzed him.

"Kufu...... That was a great prey, you."

Birche groans with clamour as he uplifts his face with the fatigue of tracking and the excitement that has put the big man on. For the great hog who lay, both the hatred and the archaic palpitation that vandalized the woods at the earliest had been fogged away. Fix your hair sticking to your cheeks with sweat, then kneel down to the pig's carcass and pray.

It was a thanksgiving to the forest, which gave him great grace to feed, that he should not return to the earth in the peace of his soul.

Yes, food. As surprising as it may seem, the animal meat eats even though it is an elf. They just prefer to stay in the woods, but they haven't dyed their hands at the act of livestock that could destroy it. So I just have about a chance to hunt for meat. And he also has the sensibility of feeling the meat as a treat. Whether or not to put it on the table is another matter. Because elves make it a virtue to be discreet.

"But what shall we do"

At the end of a single prayer, he conceived with his ear tipped. How did you report this to the people inside? Somehow, while the elderly were discussing when they were going to hunt, they ended up on their own. It is good to see that the scolding word lasts for a small day. When that happens, the meat of a great prey that has been cornered may not get into her mouth.

Neither do the adults in the inner world live by eating Xia. Even if you spin words from your lips that honor biocidal and qualitative qualities, the tongue behind it wants the taste of meat. It's no surprise you took the meat out of the barche with a tsunami that this is punishment, etc. I didn't like that. First of all, this big pig was set up by her. I have to make sure I get my share. Spin your thoughts for that.

Why don't we just make it up to you? No, no, Birche shakes his head. No matter how much, there is too little discretion. The appearance of an elf just to shame her desire existed in her as well. Besides, if I had cleaned up this magnificent meat by myself, I would have let it rot. Let such a stunning beast rot? I'm not kidding. As a hunter, I was more intolerant than being sidelined with all of the meat.

"I think I'll even hold him in Chaga's..."

You're inferior to the arms of a bow, and for some reason I always think of the same generation of young people who try to talk about her hunting. Chaga was an unusual man. I'm weak, and my liver is thin enough to bluish my face even to drain the blood of my prey. Even arm strength is inferior to a woman's self. Yet when Birche hangs out with his bow in his hand, he tries to hang out with it as much as he must. Footprints are a good place, and he didn't always look like he enjoyed hunting much. Yet why do you follow in your hunt? It is a thought that is incomprehensible to Birche.

But she'll probably listen to what she's asking, and she's pretty good with the men. When I say I'll split the meat up, Chaga and her friends will be on board with this story. The young people are always hungry for the opportunity to taste the good meat, because the old centered adults will appreciate it from the edge they get.

I thought it was a good idea. At this time, it is not bad to put aside the adults and flatten only the young. I feel greatly sorry for my prey for not being able to make him the flesh of a virtuous old elf. But you should be patient, thinking that you will raise a promising young man who will support you in later years.

I raise my face, thinking what a casual thing to do from a tailored pig.

It is then.

"Huh...?

She hadn't noticed the abnormalities around her until now, either because she was distracted by the prey and all that followed.

The trunks of the trees that surround them are dark, and the colour of the leaves that grow from the branches is so dark that they are confused with black. This was not that white, pale, bright, mother birch forest. Surrounding it, another forest. The Great Forest of Zanktogaren, what humans call the 'Black Forest'. It is a hissing demon of beasts and monsters.

"Shit! I was going too far!

Unexpectedly distorts his face due to his breadth. Bigger pigs than the former are foreign objects that came in from outside the birch forest. I stayed there for a while, but I guess the main office was in this black forest. Barchet shot it with a bow and chased it around, so he turned back to his original nest. She's passionate about hunting. She kept chasing pigs without realizing she was, so she was lost outside the elf's boundaries.

We have to get back inside the junction quickly. The tranquillity of the elf forest lies, for one thing, in keeping the outside enemy away with protection by the power of the Spirit. The beast level breaks in from time to time, but the demon-bearing monster is still retreating. But not now. Birche was one without protection, and he stood in the Devil's Forest. It would be good food for monsters, such as Elf's little girl who left the junction. Because he walks through the territory of the monsters with the smell of other woods that he's not used to sniffing at all and with high magic.

"Not good, we have to leave soon......!

Knowing that he had fallen from the hunter in one turn to the hunter, Barchet quickly turns himself over and rushes out. I spared no time for the big pig, but I don't have time to be in custody. He hunted for his prey, prayed beside it, and even relaxed. Time has passed since we entered the Black Forest. It is mere luck not to have been raided before now.

Regardless, it is the Birche who hunted the Great Pig, who was originally a resident of this forest. If it's a head-on battle all the time, you won't fall behind a raw monster. but this is the territory of the powerful monsters. A hunter and I are supposed to fight in our own hunting grounds, but this time it's like the opposite. Instead, they are being targeted by those who hunt in these woods. In view of the odds, even the word disadvantage would be raw. Not to mention now he's got one big guy and he's using a lot of arrows. If it is a battle, the arrows run out early.

We need to get back to our woods quickly.

But as if to mock the thought,

"Huh...?

- Zung.

Along with the earthy footsteps, there was a curtain around the vicinity of Bache.

What appeared in front of me was a giant green skin like a mountain carrying backlight. A conical horn grows from a hairless head higher than the trees in the woods, with ominously glowing monoculars looking down upon the pathetic prey.

Cyclops.

It is an incarnate monster of violence that exchanges bi-perfection among giants with simple arm strength and tough vitality alone against Gigers, who carry the power of various attributes and wield the power of paranormal.

Even the highest-ranking adventurers had difficulty defeating singles, hitting them at parties and gradually becoming enemies.

But there's only one Birche on this occasion. That too. She's not an adventurer, she's a hunter. The main opponent is a beast, not a demon. Even if the arrowball is well prepared, it will never be the opponent of the enemy.

"Hih..."

The moment the giant and I met each other, Birche was stirring up.

That's what I thought if I didn't get behind the raw demon.

But what showed up in front of you? A broken giant that also kicks the bear with just its toes. A muscle of steel that swelled up to the point where it was likely to make a noise with mites. Where is it so vicious and mighty itself? Among the many demons in the woods, he was undoubtedly the highest.

My legs tremble. The hand where the bow and arrow should be erected was unconsciously hard and fisted. What's so loud about my teeth from earlier on?

While his body is tied to the battle, his spirit is somewhere calmly looking down at its incompetence. It is a reality escape. It was a defensive mechanism to escape the frenzied fear. But the only thing I can protect with that is my mind, which is only getting saturated. The paper shield won't be as helpful to the outrage that would strike the flesh for a few minutes.

- Zung.

Dare the giant slowly, come closer to Bache.

"G, G, G..."

While leaking his caged voice, Cyclops stripped his teeth out. A strangely red tongue licks the teeth of a needle mountain stinging gizzard.

I'm laughing. I even licked my tongue.

(Eating, getting eaten?

The perception gave rise to a feeling of disgust.

It's creature sex that kills and eats. Birche has also tailored many animals as hunters and mouthed their meat. But there must have been a kind of harmony there that became the order of the forest. There was gratitude for the pride of hunting for their prey with respect, the cause of maintaining biological equilibrium.

This demon doesn't have it. Things like remembering the prey you ate, like the technique or flavor that you refine. Play until your opponent is desperate and enjoy eating frightened. Just leave it to the power to rumble, such as doing it with the vitality gained with it. All that remains is destruction and chaos.

I didn't want such a monster to kill me. If it kills you anyway, you should hang it on the beast's claw fangs. It is better to die pierced by deer horns and torn by bear claws than it is desirable. Even that big pig's fangs are good. If it were to feed, those beasts, which are part of the harmony of the forest, were good. Then you will also be able to return to the natural management, its circulation, which is the aspiration of the elves. But if the demon kills you, there's no way. Because demons are intruded and out of order. The elves believed that there would be no rest after death for those who were devoured by it.

"No, it is."

From the faded lips, the trembling voice leaks.

That's the hang-up, or the air that was left in my lungs is squeezed out in explosions.

"Somebody, help me. Eh!!

In the woods in the depths, screaming persists.

Who was it that was behind Birche's brain at that time? Was it the parents who have lived and raised themselves, the adults who were supposed to be suppressed and neglected, or the boyfriends who weren't supposed to be able to rely on them?

Either way, the voices raised in the land away from the birch forest never reached them.

But...

- Don't move.

An unfamiliar voice made my body tremble vividly.

(So, who?

Even though I have doubts, Barche has hardened without being able to do one thing.

Don't move, the instinct you polished in the hunt tells you that you should follow someone who told you so.

Birche bet everything he had ever cultivated on it.

At last, I felt signs of the Lord of my voice approaching me from behind.

"Hey, there's this wooden puppet with all these figures"

The person, who came just behind Barche, rumbles against the giant who stands in front of him or not.

The voice belongs to a lean woman who seeps through her ears. Even so, words and rhetoric are so rough that I've never heard them in an elf that rings with caution. Birche is also a keen man, but I don't recall making any painful language so far.

And this feminine look. Does anyone know what the situation is? Now we are facing a giant monster who looks up to us. The number of people increased from one to two Bachelors, but it is no different that it is absolutely fatal. Yet he provoked the giant in front of him.

"Oh, um..."

My usual strength has disappeared, and a pitiful voice leaks that I don't even think of as my own.

The woman behind her did not look stuck to it, and said to Cyclops again.

- Get out of here, get out of here.

Moment after moment, Birche's long ears cramped.

The signs of a woman on her back swelled up.

It is a mighty increase in magic, so much so that the barchet that stands in front wields fear.

It's like a lion who was sleeping in the afternoon, intimidating as the moment he woke up. I unleashed what I had been unable to contain once and for all. It felt that way.

(This guy... what a magic! I don't even want to be an adult inside. If you do poorly, it's longer than that!?

It was hard to believe. But at the same time, I learn to be convinced.

He is the owner of such overwhelming magic. Naturally, you can't even see a giant standing in front of you as a threat.

"Gi, ga, ga...... Huh!?

Did the single-eyed giant also feel the power of the woman who appeared?

A giant who even presses the trees in the woods jumps like he was shot by lightning.

I opened my eyes wide and the wolf also took a step back into the dew. Even though that alone could make the sound of Birche's body rise, the giant was showing fright with his white breath absurd.

Yes, I'm frightened. To Birche, the evil giant was barely pressured by magic alone and even frightened.

"I repeat. - Get out of here!

"Oohhhhhhhhhhh!!

Shout out a roar at the roar of waste - no, scream, the cyclops run away.

Zuzun, Zuzun and his approaching footsteps kept him away with more than ten times that tempo.

I can hear my nose rattling with pride from behind.

The woman who showed up left the giant brilliantly without even being able to exchange dried goats.

"Help, thank God...?

I squeal like that when I wake up from a bad dream.

I strayed out of a forest that I had never been out of before and ran into a demon incomparable to the beast I had hunted before, … and was saved by a bearer of immense magic that I had never felt before.

I wonder what you would say if this wasn't a dream?

"Hey."

"Ha, hiya!?

Speaking to the woman behind him, Birche turned around aggressively - and looked up to heaven.

The woman keeps stuck with how she is.

"Once, I saved my life. You'd be grateful enough to say thank you, wouldn't you?

The woman who said that was beautiful from the same sex.

Silver hair with brown skin and a neat nose beam in long cut eyes. Combining mature abundance and youthful tightness, the body depicts stunning ups and downs unlike those seen by an elf woman who is born skinny.

I wonder if it has been an injury in the past, or if it covers my left eye with an eyelid, but I am a worldly good person even if I subtract it.

But that's not the characteristic that led to Birche's surprise.

"Or something. Under your family code, what's the difference in color? Hey, it's a white elf, right?

The same long, pointed ears as elves that push away glossy silver hair.

There is only one species, albeit continental, that combines brown skin with it.

"Dark, elf?

To the groaning, the woman chuckled as if to give it back.

"Birche of the Witte, something like that"

The dark elf woman says as she remembers, searing the cut meat with fire.

Around the perimeter, small rocks are lined up with demon-proof law formations. At its centre was a tent framed by branches of sticking out trees. Incredibly, we are camping in this deep forest of demons.

"Yes...... so, what about you?

Birche also listened back as he watched his tailored prey burn with a delicious smell. I wanted to return to the birch forest as soon as possible, but it takes courage to travel alone through the monstrous black forest. Besides, I hated it, and the sun was an incarnation starting to tilt. In the end, he was to reveal the night beside this woman in consideration of offering him the fruits of the hunt.

Elves and dark elves are not separately hostile, as Birche is thus taking with the woman. Rather, a human species that steps slightly into the territory and takes possessions and sometimes drops them into slavery would be so close to the enemy. It is a casual assumption of the foolish humans that the elves are divided into light and darkness and fighting each other, etc. In the ancient times, the ancestors chose to live in the forest protected by the junction or the unstoppable wilderness of other forces, but they were divided. It was also a nonsense story that both races would fight with it because the places where they lived were too far apart in the first place and meeting was rare in itself.

The woman opens her mouth with her eyes away from the grilling of pork.

"That said, you didn't name it. I'm dry."

"? Is that all?

Birche wondered if a woman could name her name only partially. This is the first time I have met with a dark elf, but it is originally a species with an elf and a common ancestor. They were as proud as they were of themselves, and heard that they would bear the name of their families. In response to what, it would be normal to mention the names of the families together.

Asked about it, the dark elf named Dry said.

"My clan was attacked by humans and has already perished. It's the last survival that's in front of you."

And then we go back to baking meat. The voice had no emotional color to relieve. There is no mourning for his companions or family, or hatred for the one who destroyed his family. I should have had those thoughts, but they were completely lacking in Dry's response.

- Didn't my heart rub off?

That's what Birche intuited.

It's something I don't even want to imagine, but what if inside me is attacked and destroyed, and I'm just one survivor? It would be sad. You will also hate those who have laid down their hands. But will you be able to live with such emotions forever? Even we live long lives. Its life expectancy is too long to live with the grief of just a torn chest. Even if such thoughts have been extinguished while you can live longer, it's not strange.

"I'm sorry, I heard something..."

"What, I don't care"

There was still no emotion in the words that answered without turning around.

I felt unexpectedly touching their old wounds. Even if you can't complain about the pain, you're not comfortable getting it over with. An awkward silence flows for a while.

Barchet, who has become intolerable, opens his mouth once again in an attempt to change the subject.

"Um, what are you doing in this forest?

"There's only one thing long-eared people do in the woods. It's a hunt, hunt. They're after a little bigger than you."

Dry joking and answering as he leaks creeps and people's evil grin.

Birche stepped in further when he felt the air loose somewhat.

"Mr. Dry, are you an adventurer?

Adventurers. They come into the birch forest once every few years. The race is predominantly human, but some of them can be that dirty dwarf or the mixer's half elf. Some elves may leave the woods in an attempt to become adventurers because they have a longing outside and feel bored to live inside. Sometimes it is difficult for Bache to understand, such as giving his fellow countrymen woods to the rough ones.

Anyway, that's all I could think of, such as the profession of hunting demons, not beasts. Especially if you are also single, not a group like the military.

Dry clasped his neck with his free hand,

"Well, it's something similar"

"When you say something similar?

"The man who bought me was an adventurer."

Something like that.

"Or bought it ah!?

"Whoa, don't yell at me all of a sudden. I almost got rid of the roasted meat in the corner."

Look, and I'm going to serve the roasted meat to this one in the weed leaves. Birche urged ahead as he received it mysteriously.

"I wouldn't be so surprised. There will only be about a slave, such as the destination of the subrace that destroyed his family. Or were you looking at me and you didn't notice?

"Muggle...... watching and saying?

Don't talk while eating meat, and dry your face. That being said, it is the first pork in a long time. If you don't eat the grill early, you can't even feel sorry for the pig spirit. And it is delicious meat. The salt addition and reduction were good. Is the fragrance that was shaken up to eliminate the odor obtained in the outside world? It was the first time I knew about the taste and aroma, but I also felt the fat tightening and I liked it inside.

It's a collar. It's a collar.

Dry says so and points to his own neck. There, as the word goes, is a silver collar fitted. From the aesthetic feel of Birche, it was a substitute that didn't look very good for drying. To decorate a woman's body is fat and nasty, and the fine work is not something she could see. Most importantly, as an elf, the hardware kind looks nasty. Gems such as onions and emeralds were treasured exclusively over precious metals to be used in costumes, which were given from the neck with string thread or embroidered in clothing.

When it comes to gold and silver, you can give it to the hobby dwarves and others who don't like to dig it. We were born with shiny golden thread hair.... That's the aesthetic of the elves. I hear you prefer crystals and the like in the case of dark elves, but precious metals should still be kept away.

"This is a sign that those hairless monkeys can wear to slavery. Speaking of which, it's magic to make the owner listen."

A hairless monkey was a disdain for a long-lived species to call a species that lived short lives. It's a dirty word, so if you can't get to your stomach, it's also a word you won't be told. Birche had found Dry's still endless resentment there. There were certainly indelible thoughts, no matter how exhausted they were to continue to grieve and be angry. Birche was sad about it for some reason.

Dry continues as he begins to cook his share of meat.

"For that reason, in the market of the city where the monkeys are, it was sold like objects. From what I heard, they bought it a lot cheaper than the market. I was badly hit all over my body for minutes, starting with my left eye. Now there are no scratches left."

…………

No words. It was a topic I missed to escape from the awkwardness, and I poked at the snake again.

Fortunately, it doesn't weigh that much on the mouthfeel that speaks of it? Apparently, the guys who sold them don't have as much hatred for the person they bought them from, either, as a horn.

Does that make it easier? That's not true at all.

"Come on, you don't look like you're gonna cry. I used to be glad they bought ravioli and horns now. I'm not going to tell you because I'm happy for him."

"Don't you resent that person? Because, Mr. Dry, slaves are forced to come to such a dangerous place."

"Is that an insult? of the Witte tribe."

Dry grinned lightly with his nose.

"What in the woods are you saying is dangerous to me"

Yes, it was. He is such a magical guide that he can repel as many monsters as Cyclops with one intimidation. All those demons would be big enough to compete for the apex of the ecosystem in this forest as well. That's why the Black Forest is a literal hunting ground for Dry.

"And I beg your pardon"

"Fuck. Don't be serious about the joke. White elves are serious."

"The dark elf jokes are remarkable."

"Well, say it inside."

Say, Dry turns the meat over.

"I'll get back to it. I'm having a lot of fun with this, too. Those of my family have died and have cursed themselves for surviving alone, but now... we have company."

"Friends, are you?"

Says it was the adventurer who bought the dry. So, do you mean that party with your buddies? That's what Birche thought.

"Oh. Someone who can unite their hearts, join forces, and deposit their lives for the same purpose. … although there is a slight one, there is nothing you can do about it."

"What kind of people, may I ask?

"... well, I don't mind. I can't tell you what I went into because of this kind of operation, but if that's okay."

Is it the heart of those who fight? I hear that some adventurers fight over the fruits of their exploration and kill each other. What a shallow place to work, but I guess there are some of them in the outside world. If you think about it, it's understandable that you can't be exposed to it that way in the hands of your people. Still, I was interested in what kind of people this woman would call her companion without complaining.

When Birche scowled, Dry stabbed the knife and roasted the meat he was baking before continuing.

"There are four of my people, including me. Just two men and two women at a time. One, uh, what? I just said there's nothing I can do about it. This is the best new guy. He's not even really busy. You're in good shape, you're loud, and you're depressed by that little thing. So there's really nothing I can do. But you're sure of your arm. Use magic better than I do in the areas you specialize in"

"What!? Duh, is it better than Mr. Dry!?

"I told you, if you're only good at areas, Anyway, otherwise I'm extraordinarily better up there."

And, hunch out the rich chest.

Even so, I can't believe it. Only magic can tell that Dry is an exceptional magician. He is a terribly skilled magician from Birche's point of view, such as there is one area where he can outperform it.

There are two bearers of unexpected rank from her, the end of the elf. What the hell is this party you usually fight?

"Next up is the woman. This is awesome again... what a magic and sword to use just as skillfully. Of course, they're both top notch."

"... are you kidding me? Magic and swords, both top notch."

It was really every joke. Magic is such a deep field. Birche, who was born blessed with magic, has not been able to magically reach first rate while wearing two pairs of grass shoes with a bow. It is not so sweet to drill a magic guide as to be able to repair other paths. Then I thought you were a living, long-lived species for quite a while.

"It's impossible, isn't it? When I first met him, I suspected he was really human. In fact, he was the bearer of human prowess."

Unfortunately, they're human. It's a thought that doesn't block my open mouth.

I do hear that humans are short-lived, that there are many, and sometimes mutatingly monstrous, bearers of material. I guess that's what Dry said.

"Clearly, you don't know the bottom. If I were to name someone I couldn't win, he would definitely fall into that category."

You won't win that, I thought. A magical meeting would be advantageous for drying, but the sword can be used enough to call it first-rate. If you are thoroughly fought in a magical battle, overrun and allow yourself to approach once, you will have no choice but to be slashed as a magic guide. It would be a more dangerous opponent than turning a bad dragon on an enemy.

"Well, the fear is worrying. A woman whose roots are serious and who can betray her allies. It's tough and I can't catch my breath from time to time. But I can also pay attention to not making people feel that way as much as possible. Yeah, well, some of them are so comfortable under the same banner."

"That's a great compliment, huh?

"What, did you think I was just a woman looking down great?

"Yes, no, it's outrageous! So... what was the last of you like?

I rush to move on.

The last one...... this is probably the adventurer that bought the dry. My buddy put himself in and told me it was the four of us, and because there had never been a topic that seemed to be the person who bought her. Someone who taught the dark elves who lost their clan the joy of living again. Even as a barchet, I wonder what kind of person you are.

After that, Dry said.

"You mean him..."

And let your gaze wander in the hollow. At hand, a knife that was stabbing meat was being stabbed in a restless manner.

"I don't know what to say...... a guy with a little something I'm not sure about"

"Not sure?

"Oh. What the hell are you thinking? No, you're not. Thoughts come right to my face. I don't understand why you think that..."

Instead of talking to the bumps and making them talk to us, it was as if they were leaking soliloquy while summing up an unorganized idea. Of course, even if they talk about it,

"Ha ha..."

I can only return a raw reply that way.

"He didn't buy me because he had such deep thoughts. Just because you get a scratchy dark elf for cheap, that was the only reason. And yet what is it? Even if I try to be useful, I don't look very happy. From time to time, 'Don't be impotent' but 'Are you okay on your own?' That's just a bunch of novels... and I really don't know what that means. Normally, you should be happier, right? You brought me here, didn't you?

"Well..."

Something's going wrong with the direction we're going.

I remember Barchet hearing about something similar going on somewhere. What was that? Sure, yeah, that's it. A familiar woman who lived in a neighboring house is a fool who was heard when she met him some time after she was married.

While I'm thinking about that, the story of Dry goes on.

"I avoid being alone, and I only speak lightly in discussions within my peers. Don't you think we could have a little more serious in-depth discussion? What do you say?"

Finally, I hold my knees and lay my eyes down. I can see the redness in my eyes, but is that the burning light?

Birche feels kind of ticklish and smiling.

Was that feeling on your face? Dry looks at this one and mumbles.

"What, that face?

"No, Mr. Dry thinks a lot about him."

"It would be obvious. My people are important. All my people matter...... don't they?

Saying so distracts me from my gaze at first glance, but the mouthfeel looked somewhere unsatisfactory.

The trick is stinging at the child again, and Birche accidentally leaks a tickle and a grin.

The woman in front of her is somewhere cute, even if she is a magician who will only be able to fathom her for as long as she is inside, and she will be at least a hundred older than herself.

Dry snorts slightly.

"Better than that, I've spoken enough. Now let me hear something."

"Oh, is that from me?

"That's right. Whatever. I will have no time to lose. Speak."

I have trouble being told that. Birche was born a hunter. I don't talk about it as much as my daughter is about the same age. Besides, isn't it a boring topic for adventurers hunting bigger men, even if they talk about hunting?

"Look, talk. Talk. Why don't we hang it with some magic that'll make your tongue smoother?

"No, please stop. Okay, I'll talk to you!

Barchet told Dry that he had no choice but to come up with it.

It's all about how excited I was when I first took my bow, what was the first prey I hunted, and the stupidity of the adults and girlfriends my age inside for things I don't understand about hunting.

Dry hit me with a serious gavel and asked me about a topic where there was no other love. Were you hungry for someone to talk to for a long time?

Noticed, the night in the Black Forest went deeper.